


Orchestral

by gallifreyburning



Category: Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: F/M, Sex Pollen, arguments and makeouts, because these two idiots don't know how to do anything else with each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 03:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyburning/pseuds/gallifreyburning
Summary: During a CIA mission debrief, Leela and Narvin make a little music.





	Orchestral

**Author's Note:**

> ouidamforeman said: If you write a Narvin/Leela thing for number 12 or 22 of the kiss prompts I will literally cry for a million years. 
> 
> #22: A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party

“I should have known this day would come, Narvin, but I could not bring myself to believe that you would betray me like this. Forcing me into this chair, torturing me for days on end, and –”

“It has only been half a span,” Narvin sighs.

Leela waves a dismissive hand, increasing her volume: “ - _and_ subjecting me to your evil CIA whims – ”

“A mission debrief isn’t an evil whim, and it certainly isn’t torture,” he interrupts again, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“ – depriving me of food and water – “

“There’s a food machine in that wall behind you –”

“ – using your metal devices to read my mind –”

“You know this is just a data pad so I can take notes. Are you quite finished being ridiculous?”

Leela snaps her teeth closed, still glaring at him. “That depends. Are you quite finished asking me stupid questions?” she retorts, in an uncanny imitation of his voice.

Narvin represses the urge to slump into his chair in defeat. After all, he’s headed up CIA missions where the fate of the universe hung in the balance; he’s sat through interminable High Council meetings and emerged with his dignity and career intact. He can handle Leela in a fit of pique – she’s just one ornery, maddening, impossible human. “Mission debriefs are a required part of being a CIA agent.”

“I only agreed to join the Agency because of Romana promised adventures away from Gallifrey on behalf of the Time Lords. She did not mention that I would die of boredom afterward, trapped in a room with _you_.” Leela throws her hands in the air.

“Yes, well,” Narvin says, shifting irritably. “Our new Coordinator stepped into the role without a proper grasp on the daily ins-and-outs of the job. It’s a steep learning curve.”

“Ace and I deposed the time-traveler who had taken over the planet, and we retrieved the stolen time ring. How much more do you need to know?”

“Everything! That’s the point of the debrief, in case there are details you don’t consider significant, but that are actually important.”

“You want to know everything? Fine! During the trip over, Ace took a nap. At one point, we hid in a broom cupboard for three spans, to evade two dozen imperial guards. I killed four of those guards with my knife, and Ace knocked one unconscious with her fist. When I retrieved the time ring, it broke one of my fingernails. And as we left that planetary system, Ace insisted we stop at a little shop on the outskirts of the asteroid belt for souvenirs. She got a piece of carved wood, and we both got – oh! Oh! I had forgotten!”

Leela reaches into a small pouch on her belt, fishing out a cellophane package. She unwraps it to reveal two small candies, both a glimmering purple.

“Candy!” Leela says in delight, popping one into her mouth and then extending the second one to Narvin. “The shop owner called it ‘dorevonai.’ Try it!”

“Alien sweets? No thank you,” Narvin replies, his lip curling on instinct.

“Ah, yes. Because of your weak stomach.”

“My stomach isn’t weak, it’s sensible. No sensible person goes around shoving strange chemicals into their mouth.” He watches Leela suck on the candy; her look of concentration piques his curiosity. “What does it taste like?”

“I cannot tell, the flavor is very subtle,” she replies. “But if you are brave enough to eat the other one, I shall not complain again, and will answer all of your debrief questions.”

“This isn’t about courage.”

“_Everything_ is about courage.”

Their eyes lock as Leela rolls the candy in her mouth. An eternal moment passes before Narvin reaches for the second piece, without looking away, and slowly drops it onto his tongue.

A grin breaks across Leela’s face as he closes his lips after it; simultaneously, he grimaces and braces for the worst. Her expression lifts into shock and she sucks in her cheeks, exclaiming, “My piece melted, just as you ate yours!”

Unfortunately, Narvin’s candy didn’t so much melt, as it dissolved instantaneously. The sickly-sweet flavor lingers on his tongue, but there’s not even anything left to spit out.

“Well, that was atrocious.” He smacks his lips, trying to dispel the taste as he picks up the data pad again. “Now, back to your debrief.”

Leela cocks her head to the side. “Do you hear that?”

“You promised you’d cooperate after I ate your disgusting candy, and I’d like to finish this meeting before the heat-death of the universe –”

“No, Narvin,” she interrupts impatiently, waving at him to hush. _“Listen. _Music!”

In the space it takes for him to inhale, preparing to another salvo in this argument, he hears it – faint but unmistakable, somewhere nearby, someone _is_ playing music. He’s been at the Agency for centuries, and this is the first time he’s ever heard anything like it inside the CIA Tower.

Rising to his feet, he walks around the conference table and opens the door, cocking his head into the corridor. The sound doesn’t change, staying just as muted as before; its origin is no more obvious, either.

“Strings and brass,” he says, letting the conference room door close again as an experiment, searching for change in the sound.

“You are mistaken, it is the sound of drums and reed-pipe,” she replies, rising to her feet as well. “I can feel them, as if they are being played inside my body! Do you feel it?”

“No, I _hear_ it,” he replies, walking absently in a circle as he searches for the source. Simultaneously he licks his teeth, searching fruitlessly for a hint of the chemicals in that candy. It dissipated so quickly, he didn’t have a chance to analyze it. He’s so preoccupied with listening and tasting, he doesn’t notice that Leela has stepped into his circular path. He certainly doesn’t notice the flush in his own cheeks, or the glimmer in her eye as she surveys him from head to toe.

“You feel it, too,” she says confidently, and sucks her bottom lip as she gazes at him. “Does it not make you want to dance?”

“What was in that candy?”

“A symphony,” she replies simply, as if no further explanation or analysis is necessary.

“An hallucinogen.”

One of her hands has settled at his hip, he realizes, and the two of them are swaying together, as if her drums and his strings are playing in time. Without thought, he takes her other hand in his own. The instant their bare skin touches, the brass and strings swell as if Narvin has just stepped into the concert hall. The sound is joined by a full suite of percussion instruments and flutes – the sounds Leela described.

He can hear them, through her skin.

She gasps and steps back, releasing him. The music fades again into a softened state, muted as if from a distance.

“I can hear your strings and brass,” she says in wonder, holding her own hand up and inspecting it as if she might find miniature instruments attached.

“Not just an hallucinogen, but a psychotropic version with some sort of telepathic enhancement properties,” Narvin murmurs, running his tongue along his teeth again. His skin feels like it’s vibrating, as if he’s a string on a violin, and without realizing it he reaches for Leela’s hand again. “Remarkable, considering the fact that your mission was on a planet whose inhabitants possess no inherent psychic abilities.”

“This music has no lyrics. Stop ruining it with your words,” Leela chides, swaying into him more forcefully, her hand slipping around the back of his neck as they dance. The instant her fingers find his bare skin, the music swells and she gives a happy gasp. The soft sound tugs at his stomach, warmth throbbing in his belly in time with the song.

He ought to be concerned about what this alien drug is doing to his body chemistry; he ought to call in a team of decontamination agents and commit himself and Leela into the medical station for treatment. But he’s thought about this moment before, thought about touching her like this. He wouldn’t have labeled it a craving, but then again, Narvin hasn’t had a great deal of experience with this sort of attraction.

It’s definitely a craving now. Overwhelming, irresistible, like a deaf man hearing sound for the first time, he leans in closer. Leela rises onto her toes at the exact same moment, in faultless choreography. Their lips meet, breath tickling each other’s cheeks. He’s the one who makes a sound this time, the music crashing in and around him, flowing between their bodies like an ocean with its inexorable push and pull.

He’s never heard anything so beautiful, never felt anything so perfect. His mouth is open as he kisses her, their tongues moving in time with the woodwinds. Her hands pull at his robe, searching for more bare skin; he maneuvers her down onto the conference table as the percussion section thunders faster, louder.

“Yes,” she growls, legs wrapping around his hips, the heat of her thighs like the shock of a thunder sheet. She gives up fiddling with the hooks of his robe, and the sound of tearing fabric joins the symphony of sound.

“You taste like c-sharp minor,” he says, tongue trailing across her cheek and to her earlobe.

“You taste like a hunter’s ballad,” she replies as he yanks a dress strap off her shoulder, pressing his teeth into the soft skin where her neck meets her collarbone. She tips her head back, arching her chest as she pulls him further atop herself; the music pitches higher in response to her movement. 

“I have decided I like your CIA debriefs,” she pants into his ear, slightly sing-song. She’s grappling with the torn bits of his robe in a bid to get to more bare skin. He kisses her lips again, tongues dipping into each other’s mouths, and he is fumbling at the laces to her dress. He’s consumed by the need to know what this symphony sounds like when he’s buried inside her completely, with no clothing between them at all.

The percussion thunders, along with Narvin’s blood – except there’s a distinct clang to this particular drum. It occurs to him, vaguely, that the clang sounds rather like a door opening.

“Leela, the guys in materials processing found that candy we bought and – oh, holy shit! Sorry! Oh god, my eyes!” Ace stands in the conference room door, one arm thrown across her face.

Leela trembles beneath Narvin, panting as he pulls away. The music fades to a burble, the colors in the room turning dim, and his body aches at the change. Running his hands through his hair, he strategically positions himself behind a chair, to hide the raging evidence of arousal straining the front of his uniform trousers. She hops up after him, with the leonine grace of a dancer, which does nothing to ease his situation. A smirk slides across her face as she notices what he’s trying to hide; he smirks back as her hands tremble and she curls them into fists, to hold them steady. 

“I trust you have an ironclad reason for barging in on Leela’s debrief, Agent Ace?” Narvin snaps, his voice only cracking once.

“Oh god,” she groans. “The sight of that’s gonna leave a mark – nightmares for weeks!”

“Do not hide your face, there is nothing here to fear,” Leela says.

“The guys in materials processing found that candy we bought, when they were going through the TARDIS,” Ace says, peeking over her elbow before dropping her arm. She looks mildly shell-shocked. “It’s apparently an aphrodisiac. I should have gotten here faster, to warn you.”

Narvin tugs at his robe to straighten it; a strip of fabric flutters to the ground, where Leela left it shredded. She nibbles her top lip and clears her throat, carefully avoiding his gaze.

“You have saved us,” she forces out, as if it’s all she can do to keep from humming the words along with the music in her head.

“We were moments from disaster,” Narvin says, tightening his death-grip on the chair to keep himself from reaching for Leela again. Would it be an abuse of his authority to order Ace to leave? Using the mind-wipe to eliminate her memory of the last five microspans would be entirely out of bounds, for sure. With a slow, deep inhale, he collects his self-control. "Would you mind escorting Leela and I to medical, for an evaluation?"

"Is there a garden hose I can bring along, in case things get out of hand between you on the way?" Ace asks, still looking for all the world as if she just walked in on a horror show. 

"What would you need a garden hose for?" Leela asks, just as Narvin decides he doesn't want to know.

"Never mind," she sighs. "Come on, you two, before I lose my nerve and make a break for it." 

As they navigate the corridors behind Ace, Narvin edges close enough to link his pinky with Leela's. Side by side, they step in sync with music only they can hear, all the way to the medical station. 


End file.
